A Twist of Sand

Stein pushed on eagerly. At the sharp easterly swing of the Kapupa into the mountains I would have liked to have had time to have studied a great fissure running south and east from the sentinel peak at the head of the valley, but Stein would not even pause. If the gap persisted, it must run roughly towards the Kandao Mountains which could --  might -- lead to the Orumwe valley where the caravel lay. I took careful mental bearings on the key peaks. It might be a way of escape. Even as sunset came and we were all panting at the unaccustomed altitude, Stein pushed on. Superb in all its primitive wonder, the great seven-thousand-rive-hundred-foot Baynes Mountain, dusted chalk-rose by the flaring sunset at our backs, stood as magnificently captain of the peaks as the huge lion at the rock tunnel entrance.

Even Stein was moved by the splendid panorama.

"We'll be right at the spot, or very nearly there, tonight," he enthused. "We'll start looking for Onymacris to-morrow."

Anne had scarcely spoken all day.  She shrugged.

Now, with the coming of night, it was bitterly cold. The easterly wind, blowing in our faces all afternoon, had dropped. Anne sat by my side. Orion hunted over the Baynes Mountains and the Southern Cross hung lopsidedly over the Onjamu peaks towards Walvis Bay.

A slow light trailed across the frosty sky.

"Meteor or sputnik?" asked Anne. She felt for my hand. There was premonition in the cold flesh. Stein sat immobile, staring into the leaping flames. Half a dry tree was burning. It was the loneliest fire in the world. Anne and I sat close, scarcely exchanging a word. There were no words for what we felt, anyway. Her face was drawn in the light, not with fatigue, but with some inward tumult. Occasionally she glanced at me and smiled.

I rolled out her bedroll next to mine, our feet pointing at the flames. She squeezed my hand and pulled the blankets round her hair. I did likewise.

In about ten minutes she called softly.

"Geoffrey!" she said.

"Yes, Anne?"

The voice dropped until I could scarcely hear.

"Remember, I forgave you -- everything?"

I reached out, but she had withdrawn her hand.

Stein took Anne away with him after an early breakfast. I was left in the care of the sullen Johann. My usefulness seemed to have come to an end as far as I could see. Except that Stein might not feel himself able to find Curva dos Dunas again. My plans were complete, now that I was alone with Johann. He was target number one. I occupied myself about the camping-spot, finding more wood, washing up dishes. Anne and Stein set off to go higher up the steep path -- obviously a game track -- round the shoulder of the mountains, below which the camp was pitched on an open, flat clearing. As she reached the turning she turned and waved.

The next two hours were a torment. The tension inside me knotted every nerve. It was far worse than waiting for a depth-charge attack to start. I kept myself from glancing at Johann. When I struck, it must be as swift and deadly as a black mamba. There would be no second chance. Therefore I waited until I could be sure that Stein was well clear of the camp in case there was a shot. The sound would carry far among the echoing peaks. He and Anne were lost to view since the path wound steeply upwards.

I was dumbfounded when Stein appeared, alone, before ten o'clock.

"Captain Peace!" he shouted as he turned the last bend in the path. "Captain Peace! Onymacris! Onymacris! We found it! Look! Look!"

He came forward at a slight run, holding his hand outstretched.

My hopes regarding Johann fell to the ground.

"What is it?" I asked dully.

"The Onymacris!" he said, scarcely able to contain himself. "Right where I said it would be! It's the biggest scientific find  of the  century!    Look,   man,   look -- pure gold!"

He was obviously speaking metaphorically, for the two dead beetles in his hand were an undistinguished off-white. To me they looked no different from any common beetle crawling round a suburban backyard in Windhoek or Cape Town.

"The Gobi, North Borneo and now the Skeleton Coast --  living!" he cried. "Congratulate me, Captain Peace! I congratulate myself. I am rich, richer than my wildest dreams!"

Two putty-coloured beetles didn't seem worth all that.

He slapped me on the shoulder.

"Congratulations to you, too, Captain Peace! The navigator of my hopes! Congratulations to Johann, the watchman! You have all played your part nobly! You shall be rewarded as is your due! And now," he turned to me and I was again struck by the ray-like gash of the mouth and jaw, "you must go and congratulate Miss Nielsen. She is waiting up the path for you. She asks if you will go and join her -- soon!"

There was a curious inflexion about his last words. But if Anne wanted me to join her alone, there it was.